Pregnant
by CSI Clue
Summary: Pepper wants lovin' and Tony is worried.


"I want sex."

"Yes, well I want sex too, Pepper—believe me, it's always been one of those all-consuming hobbies of mine—but you're . . ."

"Pregnant. Yes. I was there when it happened. You were too, as I recall."

"Hey! No need to get cranky! As I recall it was pret-ty damned spectacular, what with the trapeze and the almond oil and—"

"Never mind the video; our lovely event happened _after _we watched it, and it's been _months_ now, Tony! I know you're trying to be cautious, but really, nothing we do in bed is going to hurt the baby, I promise you."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Absolutely, positively sure?"

"Yes."

"Can I get a second opinion on this?"

"Only if it's Jarvis."

"Jarvis? Analysis."

"Mrs. Stark is correct, sir; coitus in and of itself will not harm a fetus in vitro, provided you are not attempting to break Guinness records for exotic positions or endurance."

"Uh, good to know."

"Tony, I'm not going to get hurt, and I . . . I _need_ you."

00oo00oo00

Tony looked at her, and manfully bit back a moan.

Pepper was gorgeous. She had on a short-sleeved maternity blue tee-shirt with '_under construction'_ on the chest in white letters, and a pair of jeans. Her hair was in a loose silky ponytail with a ribbon—a *ribbon*-and she was barefoot.

He wanted to jump her so damned much. Since moving into her last phase of pregnancy, Pepper exhibited all the new lovely curves and lushness and they were driving Tony out of his mind—that and his self-enforced celibacy. Being around Pepper had always been, pardon the pun, hard, but now it was doubly, damnably so.

For one thing, she was freakin' adorable in maternity wear. The little half basketball of her tummy looked incredibly cute peeking out of shirts that were now too small, and the slow slightly waddling walk brought out the predatory instincts in him. Tony loved her fuller breasts, her curvier hips, her contented smile.

Oh he'd loved her lean lines of before, and would again, he knew, but there was just . . . _something_ about a ripe, pregnant Potts that made him want to circle around her and drive her to the nearest bed. Wolf with a doe, he woefully thought to himself. The urge to constantly make *sure* she was pregnant couldn't be normal.

Right?

She smelled good—all the new fancy lotions Pepper used on her skin had _flavors_ to them—and she hummed and smiled and wore lacy loose tops when she went to bed and Tony tried like HELL to be a considerate partner and keep his horny hands to himself, but between missions and meetings and maternity matters, he was losing sanity.

"Pepper . . . I'll hurt you," he blurted, fear washing through him.

There. It was out—not just the baby, but her too—the biggest terror within him said flat out. Tony braced himself for her backlash, knowing full well that if anyone knew what his appetites were like, it was Pepper.

"We don't have to play Schoolgirl Hostage," she told him, mind-reading as usual. "Or Mad Scientist and his Magic Suitcase, you know. I'd just like an opportunity to enjoy your grunting growly goodness again, Tony." Pepper came closer and put her arms around him.

Or as much of them as she could, given the round bulge of her tummy. One hand slipped down to his groin, and Tony shivered as Pepper's fingers cupped him with sweet familiarity. "Hello, big boy."

"Pepper—" Tony whimpered, "God, you're making me crazy."

"We should DO something about that," she whispered, moving to rub her lips along his neck above his tee-shirt. Against his will, Tony felt himself swell eagerly to the stroke of those fingers through the denim. Nobody had a grip like Pepper. Hell, not even his own fingers, and God knew he'd given them enough practice over the years.

"Oh yes, you _do_ like me!" Pepper giggled as she caressed the thickening ridge. "Wow! Is that a gauntlet in your pants or are you just _very _happy to see me?"

"Give me an order," Tony groaned, closing his eyes. "You know you can, and you know I will if you just . . . boss me around on this, okay, babe?"

For a second he froze, wishing he hadn't said it aloud, but suddenly Pepper's strong teeth were nipping the outer rim of his ear, and her hot breath blew into it. "Oh is _that _how this goes? Mmmmmm, all right then. Mr. Stark, you need to do what I say. I'm pregnant, and I get cravings, you know."

He did know. Pepper had developed several strange tastes around her fourth month, and he was grateful that his jets were able to fly in smoked anchovies from Oslo and fresh jalapeno salsa from El Rosale in Texas.

Watching her eat them combined though-that took more courage than Tony had.

"Yeah?"

"Ohyeah. And what I'm craving right now, is some Stark salami," she replied, snorting a giggle at her own words. "Something delectable and hot."

This time his moan was louder; Pepper had managed to undo his fly buttons at warp speed, and freed, the SI Weapon of Mass Conception was throbbing eagerly against her palm. Tony kept his eyes closed, not out of fear, but simple need for restraint; should he look at lovely, luscious rounded Pepper, he'd go off in a pre-emptive strike and that would definitely be bad.

"You are the most evil mission control in the world," he told Pepper hoarsely.

"I thought I was talking food, not rocketry," she replied, taken aback for a moment. Tony turned his head to kiss her, tongue flicking into her mouth to rob her of breath. He pulled away, gasping.

"WhatEVER! Don't stop, God, please, Pepper. I've tried to be good, really, I have, but Jesus H. in a shopping cart, you are a fucking GODDESS when you're knocked up!"

"A goddess," Pepper echoed, and the hint of gloat in her voice was plain to hear. "Oh that's very good, Tony. That, I like. Get your pants off. Now."

He did, fumbling and dry-mouthed now, feeling heat radiating off of his entire body. Pepper cupped his face and Tony felt her hands, cool on his cheeks.

"Are we playing hide and seek? Open your eyes, Tony."

"But . . . But . . ."

"You're going to need them," Pepper advised, and suddenly her hands were pulling his up under her tee-shirt, to the squeezable bare globes of her breasts. Startled, Tony blinked, and Pepper leaned in to kiss him, her mouth on his, hungry and hot.

He wanted more. A lot more. Right now. Standing pantless, his hands on Pepper's bouncy chest sort of did that to Tony, and he left his doubts behind on the floor with his jeans, letting Pepper lead him by the . . . well lead him to the sofa anyway, and then it was just a matter of dropping onto his back and letting the hot, glorious curves of her body descend on him.

On a specific, aching, ohhhsodamnedREADY part of him, precisely.

Luckily the sofa was old, and soft and low to the ground; Pepper had negotiated its dimensions before in many a previous act of Ride the Reclining Billionaire.

This time though, there was a degree of lustful smugness to her mien that even a preoccupied Tony couldn't miss. He looked up into her face while playing happily with her hard nipples, and noted Pepper's expression.

"Honey—" he began, but she pressed one bare knee against the inside of the sofa, and braced herself with the other leg on the workshop floor, puffing slightly as she licked her lips.

"I'm fine, and I'm about to get a LOT better if you'll just shut up and PUT up, Mr. Stark. Your job right now is to _do_ me."

He whimpered. There was something just so damned incendiary about bossy Pepper, and the added bonus of her pink cheeks and bouncy roundness was putting him into the 'now or never' zone very fast. Carefully Tony reached down and angled himself, nudging the wet head of his cock into the slickness of Pepper's cleft.

He paused; she didn't. Pepper gracefully dipped down, impaling herself with a delighted gasp that was overshadowed by the sound of Tony's deep and unmistakably sexy groan.

In the next second, matters became very busy very fast. Tony hadn't realized exactly HOW hot a pregnant Pepper could be, both aesthetically and thermodynamically. She was slicker than wet porcelain and the heat of her tight body seared his rigid cock with every churning stroke. He gasped, slammed with pleasure and fighting hard not to simply come right then and there while Pepper squirmed and squealed and made all sorts of happy sounds.

Given how eagerly, nay, _ruthlessly_ Pepper was riding him, Tony finally gave in and let himself surge up into that dear little pepperpot.

They grunted and gasped and clutched each other tightly, and when Tony felt the quick hard squeezes of Pepper's climax tightening around his prick, he grunted helplessly and followed her into the white-hot pleasure of lust, blooming deeply.

00oo00oo00

The press of the bump between them felt . . . neat, Tony thought, and for the first time he appreciated how cushioned the baby was.

How cushioned Pepper was.

How nice the world was now that he'd gotten laid again.

Tony heard humming. He looked down at the top of Pepper's head and kissed it, grinning.

"Okay. I think I'm officially over my sexual reluctance now," he told her. "Thanks to Orders from the Round One."

Pepper giggled. "It was good," she agreed, her voice full of warm contentment. "This cowgirl is a happy rider."

"Thanks," Tony teased. "Glad to know I still have it. So . . ." he felt himself twitch, and rub against her thigh. "Ready to go again?" he asked, shamelessly eager.

After all, Tony justified to himself, he had the better part of a year to make up for.

"Mmmmm, sure. Just let me clean up a little and get a snack," Pepper purred. "Anchovies, Salsa and Stark. It's all good."

And for once, Tony decided to let her have the last word.


End file.
